Lockhart cleared his throat, struck what he considered a dashing pose, pointed his wand at Harry's arm, and loudly recited the spell.
" The Brackium Emendo!"
Morris was certain he had never heard of this spell.
A blinding red light shot from Lockhart's staff tip and struck Harry's arm precisely.
No~
Harry's weak protests rang out, but to no avail.
The sleeve of his right arm deflated visibly, and his entire arm hung limply—the bone inside had been removed.
" Merlin!" A chorus of exclamations erupted from all around.
Morris was utterly speechless.
Awesome.
In a sense, this can be considered a successful solution to Harry's fracture problem.
"Uh..." Lockhart probably knew he'd made things worse, but he still said matter-of-factly, "Bones are too much trouble to set; wouldn't it be better to just get a new set? It only requires a little Transfiguration, plus..."
Seeing that he was about to pick up the wand again, Madam Hooch quickly stopped him.
Just kidding, if Lockhart keeps messing around, Harry's going to be dead.
Harry was now completely unconscious and lay motionless on the ground.
Madam Hooch deftly conjured a stretcher and carefully lifted Harry onto it.
Lockhart stood to the side, at a loss, his smile somewhat stiff.
Morris watched this scene, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.
Could Lockhart... also be feigning stupidity?
Just like Quirrell last year.
If Lockhart truly possessed magical abilities, why would he rashly attack in full view of everyone?
Even a fool knows that doing so would undoubtedly have the opposite effect.
Morris narrowed his eyes.
Yeah, how could a normal person be so stupid?
Lockhart is definitely suspicious!
He must have deliberately disguised himself as a clown!
Morris decided to test Lockhart.
On the evening of the day the Quidditch Match ended, he knocked on Lockhart's office door.
"Come in," Lockhart's voice came from behind the door.
Morris pushed open the door and found that the portraits of Lockhart on the wall were gone, replaced by several huge posters of Lockhart himself, making faces and striking various poses.
What kind of extraordinary person would cover their room with their own posters?
Lockhart himself was facing a small mirror, carefully grooming his blond hair with a gold comb.
He turned around, flashing a bright smile. "It's you, Morris, one of my most loyal fans. What's up? Oh, I guessed you were here for an autograph. I just finished taking a new batch of photos."
"Professor," Morris interrupted him, cutting to the chase, "Do you know of Heir of Slytherin?"
"Heir..." Lockhart rose, walked around the desk, and patted Morris on the shoulder affectionately, "You're also worried about being attacked, aren't you? Quite a few students have asked me the same question."
Morris nodded.
"Then you can rest assured, child," Lockhart said with a smile, "The heir will not dare to make a move again! I assure you! As long as I am in this castle, you will be safe."
He walked to the wall and pointed to a poster.
In the poster, Lockhart himself is fighting a Werewolf.
The Werewolf looked menacing, but Lockhart maintained a calm smile as he waved his wand, unleashing spell after spell, repeatedly knocking it away.
"You can always trust your Professor Lockhart," he said confidently.
Morris sighed inwardly.
The attempts yielded no results.
Forget it, I'll just ignore it.
In critical times, swift and decisive action is necessary.
Morris was never an indecisive person.
Without further hesitation, he quietly cast a soft, Wailing Curse at Lockhart.
Lockhart suddenly clutched his forehead and stumbled to the sofa.
The Wailing Curse is undoubtedly taking effect.
"Are you alright, Professor?" Morris asked, feigning ignorance.
"N-nothing... it's nothing." Lockhart forced a smile.
He shook his head vigorously, trying to dispel the buzzing noise in his mind, but it didn't work.
What... what happened?
You look terrible.
"I'm probably a little sleep-deprived because I was researching magic until late last night," Lockhart said, rubbing his temples, still maintaining his composure. "It's nothing serious. For a master of magic like me, this is normal."
"Even a master magician needs to take care of his health, Professor," Morris said sincerely, handing him a glass of water from the table. "Have some water."
Lockhart instinctively took it and, without any warning, took a large gulp.
"Are you feeling better, Professor?"
Morris observed his expression, wondering when the Veritaserum take effect.
Yes, Veritaserum.
He added Veritaserum.
This is a colorless and odorless Potions that puts the user into a trance-like state, causing them to lose self-control and answer all questions without reservation.
Morris found the recipe for this Potions in the Restricted Section and successfully concocted it.
Soon, Lockhart became drowsy.
Morris wasted no time and immediately began questioning.
"Are you the Heir of Slytherin?"
"No."
"Are you in contact with the Heir of Slytherin?"
"No."
Do you know where the Chamber of Secrets is?
... have no idea."
I know absolutely nothing about it.
Morris shook his head.
It appears that Lockhart has no relation to the Heir of Slytherin.
Could it be that he misunderstood?
How good are your spellcasting skills?
"That's terrible."
How bad was it?
"Apart from the Memory Charm, I can't use any other magic well."
"So how did you write those books?"
Lockhart remained silent for a moment.
Just when Morris thought the effects of the Veritaserum had worn off, Lockhart suddenly spoke slowly, "I'm going on a journey... to those remote corners, pubs, dilapidated wizard villages... there's always one or two people there who can solve the problem."
"I treated them to drinks, wrote down their stories, and then used Memory Charm on them."
Upon hearing this, Morris clicked his tongue softly.
He initially thought Lockhart was just a bestselling author who was good at making up stories, but he never expected her to do something like this.
This is far worse than making up a story.
If this is exposed, Azkaban will undoubtedly be granted a lifetime stay.
Morris had initially felt some guilt about using the Veritaserum, but that guilt had completely vanished by now.
At this moment, Lockhart's eyes rolled a few times, and he let out a muffled groan.
The effects of the Veritaserum are fading rapidly.
Suddenly, he gasped for breath, stared intently at Morris, and shouted, "What did you do to me?!"
"What a hassle."
Morris smiled and raised his wand.
"This spell is perfect for dealing with you."
" Obliviate!"